Just a Funk
by MitchPell
Summary: It wasn’t depression. He was just in a funk.


Title: Just a Funk

Author: MitchPell

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with The O.C.; it's characters, 20th Century Fox, or the anything else that's related. I'm just using their stuff for a little bit of non-profitable fun.

Author Notes: I recently found myself in something of a funk, and decided to vent my thoughts in a little fanfic. This is my first O.C. fanfic; so don't go easy on it. Let me know if the characterization sucks. This is pre-season one. Thanks to Adri for the quick beta-read!

Summary: It wasn't depression. He was just in a funk.

0000

Seth sighed in frustration as he tossed aside the comic he'd been reading. There was no denying Brian Michael Bendis' brilliance, especially the way he'd written Matt Murdock's outing as Daredevil. There was no plot hole. There was no stupid easy lame-ass excuse or explanation on either Matt or Foggy's part. There was just one desperate man who could do little more than deny, deny, deny in order to save the life he'd managed to build for himself. And it was all because one hopeless FED tried to save his marriage by selling out a one of New York's biggest heroes. It was genius, pure and simple genius, one of his all-time favorite arcs. And it was doing little to hold his interest. But then…that seemed to be the par for the course the last couple of days.

He kept telling himself that he was just in a funk, a little bit of a rut, which happened to everyone from time to time. Which was true, he'd suffered through at least a couple that he could remember. Times when he was tired of the comics, and the video games, and his DVD collection, and surfing the internet, and sailing, and skateboarding, and everything that he usually did. Times when his parents' and Captain Oats' company just wasn't enough. It happened every now and then. And he'd be miserable for about a week, until he could shake it off and get on with his life. No problem. Except…now there was a problem. He'd noticed that these funks were getting more and more regular, and each one seemed to last longer. In fact they didn't even seem so much like funks anymore but rather…bouts of depression or something, or maybe not depression, but just…loneliness.

Or maybe it was a combination of both, depression and loneliness. Though he was more inclined to believe that the depression was just a side effect of the latter. Because really, a small amount of school bullying aside, he did have a pretty great life. Great, if somewhat overprotective and overbearing, parents; a limited, though considerably large, allowance; his own boat…what more could a kid ask for? And who needed friends or siblings anyway, when you could hang out by yourself. Because when it was just you, you always got to do what you wanted to do, there was no one else to consult. It was all you all the time. And really, what could be better than that? And it wasn't like he didn't have friends either. Oh no, he had Captain Oats and his parents. Except…he knew that sometimes his parents were merely indulging him, fanning interest in his rants about Marvel verses DC, because…they really were great parents. And as much as he'd like to believe otherwise, Captain Oats was just a plastic horse.

So…maybe sometimes he wished that there was a Matt Murdock to his Foggy Nelson, because let's face it there was no way he was Matt, and he would be perfectly happy with being cast as the dumpy sidekick. Besides everybody knew that Matt never would have survived everything he'd been put through without Foggy. And that was all he wanted, not to have the lead role, but to just be part of the supporting cast, a blip on the radar. He knew it was crazy, but sometimes, he almost relished the torment he suffered at school, because at least that meant he wasn't invisible. So, yeah, the Water Polo team was like his worst enemy and best friend all wrapped up into one pathetic package. Because even though they were shoving him into lockers, which really sucked considering his claustrophobia, and pissing in his shoes, they at least knew his name. Which was more than he could say for the rest of the student body.

Sighing, once again, at his oh-so-pleasant train of thoughts, Seth pushed himself off his bed and starting gathering up his comics, sliding them back into their protective coverings and putting them back into the filing cabinet. When that was finished he grabbed his wallet off his dresser and his light jacket off the back of his desk chair, and left his room. He'd decided that he was going to go out, because it was pointless to just lie on his bed and wallow. He still had little more than a month left of summer vacation, and he wasn't going to spend it cooped up in the house. Yes, he'd admit that maybe he was lonely and maybe he was a little depressed. But he was determined to shake it off, just like he'd done in the past because…it was just a funk.

The End.


End file.
